A Honeybun and Coffee(7)

By: Sam Cheever

Angie marveled at the change in his demeanor. From nearly dead guy with a cold wrapped in five blankets and still shivering, to super spy extraordinaire. Amazing what a little adrenalin will do. If she didn’t know better she’d think he’d done this before.

They ran toward a small shed at the back corner of the property, which was bordered by a tall, wood privacy fence on all sides. When they got to the shed he shoved the little dog into her arms and pushed them to the side of the small building that faced away from the street, so she wasn’t visible from the front of the house. “Wait here.”

Angie opened her mouth to ask questions but he shushed her and she reluctantly clamped her mouth shut. The long suffering fingernail found its way into her mouth.

She hugged the sweet little dog close and got some wet kisses on her nose as a reward. Leaning her head against the metal side of the shed Angie took deep breaths in an effort to keep from going into a full-blown panic attack.

Alastair emerged from the shed pushing a motorcycle and she had new things to worry about. As soon as she saw it her head started shaking back and forth. No way was she climbing on the back of a motorcycle with this guy. No way.

He jerked his head toward the doorway she hadn’t noticed before in the shadow of the shed. She stood rooted to the spot clutching the little dog. She didn’t realize how tightly she’d been clutching him until he gave a small whine.

She forced her grip to lighten and kissed him on his little black nose. “Sorry, baby.” She whispered to the little guy.

Alastair was at the door glaring back at her and she realized he couldn’t open the door while holding onto the bike. She ran to open it and then followed him through.

He grabbed the little dog from her and shoved him into a pouch on the front of the bike and then handed her a helmet. She was still shaking her head when he slammed his helmet onto his head and climbed onto the motorcycle. He turned to look at her. “When I start this they’ll know we’re back here and we’ll need to move fast. I need you to climb on now.”

Angie had just about chewed the fingernail down to her first knuckle but she realized he was right and, taking a deep breath, she slammed the helmet onto her head and climbed up behind him. “I’m terrified of these things and I’m not wearing any leather so if you wouldn’t mind I’d appreciate it if you didn’t slide us across the pavement or anything.”

Alastair’s response was to turn the key, rev the engine, and yell, “hold on!” over his shoulder before they jerked into what felt like about a hundred miles an hour.

“Yikkkkkkkessssss!!!!!!” Angie screamed as they took the first turn into an extremely narrow alley without slowing in any noticeable way. The tire under her butt slid sideways until she thought for sure she was going to be pavement bling but then it finally worked itself out and they were flying straight down the alley.

They whizzed past an overflowing dumpster and Angie saw a couple of sets of beady eyes glowing at her from the middle of the dumpster’s aromatic contents and suddenly wished she were a rat in a dumpster instead of a dope on the back of a death trap. Then a fat, orange cat jumped out of the shadows in front of them and Alastair slammed on the brake to avoid hitting it. The bike went into a skid and they started folding toward the ground. Angie thought her eyes would pop from terror as they headed toward a brick wall fast and sideways, but Alastair threw down a foot and somehow got them upright again.

As soon as they were almost vertical, he revved the engine and they took the rest of the alley at full speed again. Emerging finally from the dark, obstacle strewn passage, Alastair pointed the bike toward the park. He left the street without slowing and as they hit the curb they were airborne for several seconds and then landed hard on the sidewalk. Alastair threw out a hand to hold the dog in its little sack and then gunned it again when both tires were on the sidewalk. They crossed the park on the sidewalk with Alastair screaming at people to get out of their way.

When they emerged on the West side of the park Alastair immediately took a sharp left and re-entered it using the road that wove past the war memorial. They followed the beautiful, winding road past pristine white buildings and whipped back out onto the street on the North side of the park. Then he headed into quiet, pristine suburbia and wove through several streets until Angie was totally lost.

Finally he pulled the bike into another alley and drove through at a more sedate pace. When they stopped at the other end Angie was looking at the front of his house. The thugs’ car was gone. Apparently they’d either given up or were giving chase.

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